


There's More to Love

by My_Felicitous_Garden



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Coming Out, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, One Shot, Other, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), Post-Apocalypse, crowley is ace and zira is horny change my mind, hello internet for my first fanfic in years, these morons got me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2019-07-03
Packaged: 2020-06-03 12:27:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19463974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Felicitous_Garden/pseuds/My_Felicitous_Garden
Summary: With Armageddon temporarily avoided, Aziraphale and Crowley have become much more open with one another about a lot of things...well, aside from that one little thing Crowley keeps "forgetting" to mention.





	There's More to Love

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! This fic is based off of one of my tumblr prompts (Prompt #889 from @promptsforthestrugglingauthor) because I can't help myself. If, um, you happen to follow me there, hello and welcome to my den of shame! You'll quickly learn I'm truly not as cool as I seem there.

With Armageddon at least temporarily averted and the eyes of their respective head offices also doing so, Aziraphale and Crowley found themselves keeping in more company than they had enjoyed in, well, perhaps all six millennia that they had known each other. As it turned out, “our side” was quite a wonderful place to be. They had always been aware something _different_ between them, and, although it had begun rather clumsily and a little fearfully, the two finally felt safe enough to begin exploring it as the days drew on, lush with unkempt freedom.

Much of the more intimate exploring was done away from the public eye, and inside of A.Z. Fell and Co., where they could attempt to work out this feeling of human infatuation without prying eyes. Little dates were easy enough, given that there was no real change from the lunches they enjoyed, aside from the fact that they no longer had to fear being found out in each other’s company. They did get a few odd looks on occasion, but there wasn’t much that they minded about that. That was even before the two were comfortable even holding hand in public, but they were working on that together.

Together.

It was a lovely word, one which they were beginning to fully grasp true the meaning of. Certainly, all these years of watching humans bond and band towards one another since the beginning had given them a clinical understanding of the desire to share time and space and body heat, but the more they allowed themselves to be open about what it was they shared, no longer relegated to warring, antithetical factions, they realized just exactly why humans were enamored with even the _idea_ of love.

Tonight, as a gentle, glacial breeze danced through the London streets, the pair found themselves creating a heat of their own to combat it. Angel and demon had been building the physical nature of their relationship up in hopes of matching the emotional intimacy they shared—Crowley had dryly teased that he imagined it would be the end of the century before his angel would be forward about anything, but Aziraphale had surprisingly all but taken the reins. It had started with quick kisses, little more than a peck on the cheek or the forehead, fingers intertwined as they sat besides one another. The feeling was electric, dizzying, and right in ways that the pair had never imagined.

Within a week, things had taken a quick turn towards more contact, more passion, more body. And at this current moment? Body indeed. Crowley had Aziraphale pressed against the couch, the angel’s blond tufts of hair beginning to fall flat with sweat and pressure. Aziraphale tugged at Crowley’s jacket, a silent insistence that he take it off. A mirthful giggle passed his lips and into Crowley’s, a euphoria buzzing throughout his skull and into his flesh and nerves and veins. He wanted to share more of that with Crowley, to hold him closer, to continue _further_ , continue onto _more_.

“I quite think I might be ready,” he murmured into the demon’s ear. Crowley froze above him, looking down with an expression Aziraphale had not anticipated. Something in his face became strained, as though it were held together by force of will alone. There was no suave chuckle like he had anticipated, no seductive growl nor witty comment about it. This certainly didn’t seem correct.

“Ready for…?” Crowley quirked his head to the left, still keeping the word unspoken. Aziraphale nodded, his face flushing to a further pink, although some of the thrill had been replaced with unease. Crowley chuckled but it was dry, lacking of all humor or mirth. He rubbed a hand around his mouth, rising to a seated position.

“Well, angel, you are absolutely _full_ of surprises. I can honestly say, I never pegged—er, rather pinned—Ugh!” Crowley fumbled with his words and each connotation they could provide. “What I’m _trying_ to say is that I didn’t anticipate…” He made an empty gesture to the air. “Certainly not this fast, anyhow.”

Aziraphale shifted to prop himself up on his elbows. His smile had fallen, but he kept himself from the small frown he was beginning to feel. Crowley hadn’t been hesitant about any of the rest. In fact, he had _encouraged_ plenty himself. “Yes, well, I thought that perhaps six thousand years of getting to know one another more than suffices for moving things slowly. I assumed you wouldn’t have—given everything you’ve seen and done yourself—Is there something that’s bothering you?” He paused for a moment. “Have…have I done something wrong?”

Crowley stood up and turned his back to Aziraphale, returning his sunglasses over his eyes. He swore to himself, taking a few paces forward, running his hands through his ruddy, sweat dampened hair. _Good going, idiot, now you’ve upset him._ “No, no, not you, not at all! Shit, angel, I really thought I’d have more time to—to prepare.” To let him know the full truth.

“Prepare?” Aziraphale sat up, the collar of his shirt wrinkled and askew. They were an angel and a demon, there really shouldn’t have been anything _needing_ any special sort of preparation. Anything either of them may have needed or wanted could simply be miracled if need be.

Crowley turned back around, a panic etched into the wrinkle of his forehead. “I don’t have much, erm—not to have seemed like I’ve led you on in any way because what I feel for you is—you see, _my_ association with it is—”

“You don’t wish to have sex with me,” Aziraphale finished for him. Crowley’s face crumpled, along with his posture. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, gaze averted towards a stack of books on a nearby table.

“It’s not _you_ specifically, I just…I’ve never wanted to have sex with _anyone_ , angel. But I want to take care of you, I want to please you. I had hoped I would be able to psych myself up to being ready for it, and I didn’t expect tonight, is all.” He turned to face Aziraphale fully, his voice cracking with the weight of his confession. “I love you Angel, more than the whole world, and the moon and the stars and Alpha Centauri and anything else that might be here. I’m willing to do anything to make you happy—whatever it takes. I just…I didn’t anticipate it so soon. I just need a little time.”

There was desperation in Crowley’s voice, as though he were trying to bargain his stake in their relationship. Aziraphale nodded solemnly as he spoke, fiddling with his own fingers. Oh, he _wished_ Crowley would have said something sooner. He had only pushed this fast under the assumption that Crowley had wanted this all, too, had felt the same yearning and the same comfort, that he wouldn’t have minded any of this in the slightest. For all the jokes he had made, Aziraphale assumed—well, he supposed they were a bit more out of a self-deprecation instead of gentle teasing. He truly wished he realized. He ought to have paid more attention.

Aziraphale smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt and readjusted the collar back into place. “Well…there’s more than just the act to love, my dear. That truly is what’s so glorious _about_ love—it comes in so many wondrous different forms! There’s compassion and interest and care and little surprises just to make the other happy, even when there’s no need nor precedent for it.”

Crowley looked back at him, his pupils dilated with some shock. Aziraphale gave a short chuckle. “What? We’ve spent six thousand years without anything of the sort, you know. I would certainly _never_ wish to put you in any position where you might be uncomfortable or unsure. It’s not _love_ at that point. It’s simply, well…fornication.”

Crowley offered a flicker of a smile, the tension of his posture dissipating to the air around them. “So, then, you’re not…upset?” His voice ticked up at the final word, as though he were still truly uncertain about the whole thing.

Aziraphale smiled and reached out for his hand, moving to make better room for Crowley on the couch beside him. He gave Crowley a peck on the cheek. “Why would I be upset? I promise, it truly doesn’t make much of a difference to me. Besides…I’ve already fallen for you, after all.” He giggled at his own play on words.

A smile returned to Crowley’s face to its true extent this time, warm and full and far more relaxed. “I suppose you have, haven’t you?” He laid his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Who’d have thought that an angel would be so forward? Not too long ago, I was moving far too fast for you, and now in just—”

Aziraphale shoved him playfully, dusted with a rosy pink. “Well I certainly don’t think anyone could have expected the way things have gone for anyone! And, again, God made it perfectly clear—well, perhaps not _perfectly_ given that humans are still debating it so much—that there’s nothing wrong with it so long as, well…I shouldn’t have to explain it to you, given that your lot has been using it against us practically since the beginning.”

“I’ve struck a nerve there, haven’t I?” Crowley laughed and expelled the last of the anxious feeling crawling from inside his veins. “A lustful angel and an asexual demon, fancy seeing that.”

Aziraphale pouted, shaking Crowley’s head from his shoulders. “I am _not_ lustful, Crowley.”

Crowley laced his fingers with Aziraphale’s, and the world once again felt right. “I know, Angel. I know.” He placed a quick kiss on his temple. “It’s a bit of a funny thought though, isn’t it?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes and laid his head against Crowley’s shoulder, warm and gentle and safe. It was a different feeling than the buzzing and the full-bodied desires, but it soothed the soul and was just as delightful. He could by no means say no to an eternity of this. “Yes, my dear, I suppose it is.”


End file.
